


The Even More Awesome Trio

by shutupyacunt, Vaneurysm (shutupyacunt)



Series: America's Red-Headed Stepchild [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: And Are Just an Annoying Political Party in Europe, Fun at Others' Expense, Gen, Germany is a Common Target, Hijinks, Laughing at People Getting Injured, The Nazis Didn't Start WW2, antics, being a bad influence, making new friends, people getting hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:47:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 14,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24379711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shutupyacunt/pseuds/shutupyacunt, https://archiveofourown.org/users/shutupyacunt/pseuds/Vaneurysm
Summary: When America has to attend a week-long conference in London, his two best friends embark on a quest to fill the temporary vacancy in their legendary Awesome Trio.  Did I say Legendary?  They have no idea.  As for poor, long-suffering Germany, a week can feel like a very.  Long. Time.
Series: America's Red-Headed Stepchild [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1768294
Kudos: 16





	1. The Interview

**Author's Note:**

> To accompany this work, I suggest the album An Empty Bliss Beyond this World, by the Caretaker.

"Okay," Denmark shut the door and stood with his back to it. "That. Was. Awful. Whose idea was this again?"

Prussia glared at the sheet of paper in front of him. "We wouldn't have to do this if it wasn't for unawesome England," he pointed out. "We only have three more to go, and we still haven't found anyone awesome enough to fill America's spot. It's already been two days."

Denmark threw himself down on a chair. "We're running out of time," he said, shaking his head. "Well, who's up next?"

Chewing on the end of a pen, Prussia scanned the list, now mostly angry scribbles and crossed-off names. "Montana's up next, and then Louisiana and last is Washington." He paused. He already had an idea which one of the three he was going to choose, but first they had to be sure they agreed, which they likely would.

"I've heard of Montana," Denmark said, thoughtfully. He went to the door and cracked it open to peek into the waiting area. "Which one is he you think?"

Prussia snickered. "Well, it can only be one of two, because the last one up's a chick. They all out there together?"

"Yeah," Denmark whispered. "But they're all sitting super still. And they all look alike, Gil. I could have sworn you said Washington was here. I don't see her."

"Huh?" Prussia came to look out the door. Sure enough, the three states remaining in the waiting room were not only dressed alike but were also seated in the same position. "What the hell?"

"I know."

Prussia's danger sense went off then, perhaps a second too late. His ears caught the unmistakable sound of whispering voices. Two of the voices were male.

"Kate, no! I won't be able to fit in that hole. Make fuckin' Derek do it! He's smaller!"

"I am not!"

The third voice was definitely Washington's. Though neither Denmark nor Prussia had seen her in years, they knew it was her. "Fuck! Both of you get in there! Hurry up, hurry up! They're coming..." There was a flurry of whispered cursing, and then the sound of something sliding into the air-condition vents.

"Ow!"

"Shut up, they're right there."

"Washington, I hate you!" 

"Guys," the other man began, "are you sure this is safe?"

"Yes," the woman said. "It totally is. Here, Lou, hold my beer. I'm just gonna light this real quick..."

Lou's voice became shrill with fear. "Hey, wait, this is--"

The explosion rocked the building, and as the ceiling in their meeting room fell in, two states landed in a heap on the table, their faces black with gunpowder burns. 

Prussia and Denmark were still staring at the large poster Washington had hung in front of their door, giving the illusion of a quiet waiting room. Now the Evergreen state was pointing and laughing at her brothers, who both looked exactly as though they had been shot from a cannon.

Because, actually, they had.

Thundering footsteps shook the entire floor, and Washington quickly pulled herself together, but Prussia and Denmark both noticed that she had her eyes fixed on the space above the doorway.

Germany charged in, shiny and sharp in his new, black uniform. "What is this noise?" he bellowed, tearing through the poster. "I am in the middle of a very important meeting, and...I can't. ..." His voice trailed off as he noticed that the familiar personification standing with Denmark and Prussia had her gaze on something above him. Confused, he peered up, failing to hear the whimpered warnings from the smoldering states still lying on the table.

A giant bag of packing peanuts fell from the ledge where it had been precariously balanced, finally sent falling into Germany's face when he turned and created a slight breeze. The Styrofoam peanuts fell like snow, clinging to Germany's black uniform as if he had been tarred and feathered.

"Bullseye," Washington mouthed to Denmark. 


	2. The Sound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The new Even More Awesome Trio hangs out at Prussia's.  
> 

Prussia stood alone and victorious on the smoking battlefield, his vanquished foes hacked to pieces all around him. He wiped his bloody blade on the nearest fallen Ottoman soldier, then strode towards his waiting horse. But for some reason, he couldn't seem to get into the saddle. When he tried to put his foot into the stirrup, he found that he couldn't even move. 

His arms were suddenly dead at his sides too.

And that wasn't the worst part. Faintly at first, he began to hear the unmistakable sound of something. ...squishy. Gradually the noise became louder until it was directly in his ear, and unbearable. Struggling to escape it, Prussia only succeeded in thrusting a deadened hand right into a bunch of red goo that an hour before had been someone's chest. As if in a reflex, his fingers curled into the gore, making a hideous squelching sound. He opened his mouth to scream.

Someone giggled.

"Ssh. You're going to wake him up, man!"

"Oh my God, he put his hand in it..."

Now two voices were sputtering, trying not to laugh. 

Prussia's eyes flew open and he flung himself away from the source of the sound, causing the pot of macaroni and cheese to fly across the room.

Washington and Denmark were wheezing, desperately trying to catch their breath so that they could run from the room. He easily caught them before they could get going, and dragged them out to the garage where he slammed their hands in the freezer door. He had learned last time that you had to do both of them at the same time or they would just laugh at each other. 

"Wait for it," Denmark said, looking back at the house. Germany was walking through the back door, fresh from yet another meeting with his silly Wirk Party friends. He was already taking his shirt off, preparing to put it in the washing machine. 

"Almost there," Washington murmured. Denmark began to twist her hair in excitement, and Prussia waited, alternately wondering how Washington could tolerate Denmark pulling her hair like that and what they were so excited about. 

Seconds later Germany came flying out the back door, spotting them immediately. "You are dead!" he shouted, brandishing a hammer. In the other hand he held his crisp black uniform shirt, which was now streaked with bleach. Washington and Denmark yelled with laughter and grabbed Prussia.

"Run," Denmark laughed, and they took off through the alley.


	3. The Strüdel

It was raining. Denmark and Prussia were hunched in front of the oven, staring in the little window at the strüdel baking. Washington had put it in almost twenty minutes ago, so it was almost done. The two of them were anxiously awaiting the timer's chiming, because they had made a bet involving the newest member of their Even More Awesome Trio. 

When the timer went off, they were going to reach in at the same time and take the strüdel from the oven without oven mitts, and the one who didn't let go would then take Washington on an awesome date. 

"What are you doing?" Washington stood in the kitchen doorway, looking from one to the other. "Staring at it isn't going to make it bake any faster. Besides, the strüdel is for that stupid Wirk Party Party that Germany is going to."

Denmark and Prussia glanced at each other. Washington didn't exactly know that they had made the bet, and because neither of them really had any idea how to be subtle, to admit any part of it would mean spoiling the surprise date.

"We're just waiting to take it out of the oven, Birdie," Prussia said finally. "We thought we'd help you, since you did everything else." 

She beamed at them and flew back into the living room, where Germany and Italy were watching some television program on queer-platonic schools of sharks that were being ecologically threatened by pedophiliac porpoises. 

Germany looked over at Washington with poorly-disguised mistrust. "Why are they staring at the oven like that?" he wondered. Inwardly he cringed as he anticipated an explosion, but nothing happened. Washington looked at him with unaffected innocence. 

"I have no idea. Oh, Italy, I wanted to thank you for agreeing to help me with the strüdel. I didn't have any idea what I was doing," she gushed. The blissful Italian giggled happily.

"It's no problem at all! I'm so happy that I can help. Anything for a friend of Luddy's!"

"Oh, wait," Germany interrupted, "she's not actually my--"

Washington let out a snort of laughter. "Did you just say 'Luddy'?"

She and Italy both laughed.

Germany hated them.

"The slightly balding porpoise parks its van in the shade of a giant red coral," David Attenborough intoned on the screen. "Wearing sunglasses, he is unobserved as he patiently waits for the sharks to pass nearby."

Threatening music began to play.

"The sharks are finishing up their feeding frenzy," David Attenborough continued, "and the porpoise is twirling his handlebar moustache in anticipation of a frenzied feeding of his own."

In the kitchen, the timer pinged.

"The porpoise opens the back of the van."

"Gilbert, quit fucking around! Open the oven," Denmark said from the kitchen. "Okay, on three!"

"Ve, Washington, what are they doing?" Italy wondered. 

Germany's head whipped around to stare into the kitchen. "Oh. My--"

"One...two...three--Aaaaagh!"

"Aaaaaaaaahhh!"

"Mathias, let goooooo! Aaaah! Aaaahhh!" Prussia screamed. 

"No! Aaaaaarrgh. Fuck you, Gilbert! You let go!"

Both Denmark and Prussia stood in the middle of the kitchen, holding tightly onto the pan, screaming as their hands blistered. 

"I'm never letting go! Aaaaahhhh, Jesus Christ!" Denmark shouted, just as Washington and Germany ran into the room. 

"What the hell are you idiots doing?" Germany demanded as Washington took an oven mit and snatched the hot pan from their badly burned hands.

"You let go first," Prussia exclaimed, much to Denmark's annoyance. As Washington and Germany stared at them, they stood at the sink and argued as they ran cold water over their hands.

"Jesus, what the fuck," Washington muttered. "Hey, Italy? Could you go get that thing I said?" She glanced up at Germany and smiled, so he smiled back automatically before realizing that it might not be a good idea. "Wow," she sighed after her arguing pals left the room, still fighting about who had actually let go of the pan first. "That was insane, huh?"

"Ja, it was," Germany agreed, feeling himself beginning to relax. Maybe Washington wasn't so awful after all. She was quite pretty when she wasn't covered in blood or soot. "What got into them, I wonder?"

She shrugged and began removing the strüdel from the pan. "Keine Ahnung. I can't believe they didn't let me get in on it!"

"I...what?" 

Laughing, Washington turned to Italy and took a small box from him. Then she handed it to Germany, who took it and then flinched, expecting it to explode in his hands.

It didn't. For once, he seemed to have gotten through an afternoon unscathed by the antics of the three menaces. He had to wait a few minutes as Washington sliced the strüdel and still nothing happened. By the time he gave the box back to her, he was giddy. He was actually able to get back into the living room with Italy without anything happening to him or his house. 

Too soon...

He had not thought to ask what was in the box. 

By the end of the night, he knew what was in it.

And so did the rest of his colleagues. 


	4. The Trip

"Okay," Washington announced from behind the garage , "I think I've finally got it." She came round the corner, carrying a giant snowboard. "Den, Gil, bring me those chairs!"

Inside the house, Germany watched in suspicion as Prussia and his two insane friends jumped up and down as hard as they could on an enormous snowboard that they had set up across two chairs. At least they didn't have anything that could possibly be fired through the window at him. Over the past three days he had been covered with packing peanuts, had his best uniform shirt ruined (and he had slipped in a puddle of macaroni the same day), and had had to explain to Herr Donkers why three pieces of strüdel from the dessert platter at the office party had been replaced with foam blocks painted to look exactly like the real thing.

His phone tinged at him, alerting to Italy's arrival. Casting one more wary glance out the window, he shook his head as Denmark and Washington flung their arms around Prussia and the three of them all landed as hard as they could. The chairs finally tipped and they crashed to the ground in a heap. He went out to the driveway to meet Italy, who was already out of his twin brother, Romano's car. 

"Ve, you should come with us, Lovi," Italy implored.

"No! Fuck that," Romano snapped. His eyes narrowed at the sight of Germany. "Damn it, I don't know why you have to go snowboarding together. Why can't you just meet him there?"

Laughter erupted from the garage, and Italy clapped his hands once, briskly. "Oh, wonderful! Everyone's ready to go!"

"Wait, what do you mean by everyone?" Germany demanded, whipping his head around to stare in dismay at Prussia, Denmark and Washington piling their things into his car. On the ski rack was the giant snowboard. "No. Oh, no, no no. You two cannot come!"

"Oh, but Luddy," Italy cooed, smiling up at him. "We already invited them. I thought you wouldn't mind!"

Romano began to laugh. Hearing him, Washington skipped up to his window. To Germany's surprise, the usually shy South Italy's face lit up. "Hey, Lovino," Washington said, "you sure you don't wanna come with us?"

"Nah," Romano said, waving a hand. "Oh, but here." He reached into the back seat and brought out a camera case. "I said you could use it."

"Thanks!" She beamed, then leaned in to kiss him. Behind her, at the back of Germany's car, Denmark and Prussia both saw this, and Prussia yelled:

"Hey! What's the big idea, pawing our friend like that? Hands off, Mafioso!"

"Fuck off, Potato Bastard 2.0!"

"Feliciano," Germany hissed, "they are not coming!"

"Ve, Luddy, but I've already told everyone else that Washington and Denmark will be there," Italy wheedled. Germany frowned and tried one more tack.

"This is a Wirker's Party excursion," he pointed out. "Denmark and Washington are not Party members. They can't come."

"But I'm coming, and I'm not a Party member," Italy reminded him. "You invited me. So, I talked to your brother and he invited Washington and Denmark!"

Growling, Germany violently loaded the rest of his gear into the car, locking his and Italy's snowboards next to the ridiculously large one. "What, are you all going to ride at the same time?" he asked, intending it to be sarcastic. 

"Yep," Washington said, slinging her arms around her buddies. "It's gonna be awesome."

"Oh, God," he whispered as they all piled into the back seat. Romano shook his head at him, laughing mockingly before tearing out of the driveway and down the street. 

Germany wanted to cry.

"Come on, Rainy Face," Washington yelled. He turned to scowl at her but she was doing that thing with her eyes again, the one that made it impossible to tell her no. He had to remember to deal with her with his eyes closed, he thought, though that presented a different set of hazards.

When America got back, he was going to have a serious talk with him about this. 

He got into the driver's seat and glared sternly into the backseat. "Does anyone have to use the toilet before we take off?"

Nobody said anything. 

"Everyone has their seatbelts on?"

"Jawohl Herr Leutnant!" Washington answered for all of them. Prussia ripped open a box of Peeps.

"No! No eating in the car!" Germany lunged at his brother and grabbed for the Peeps, but Prussia quickly shoved the box down Washington's shirt, and Germany froze. 

Washington smiled at him. Denmark, on her left, leaned to glare at Prussia behind her back. Prussia just gave him a smug look.

"Enough," Germany hissed. He turned back around and gripped the gearshift so tightly that it nearly snapped off. Italy, seemingly oblivious to his foul mood, fiddled with the radio. In the backseat, the three troublemakers began to yell out songs they caught as Italy dialed in. 

"Oooh ooh ooh! Timmy Trumpet," Washington yelled.

"Oh fuck yeah!" Prussia and Denmark shouted. Then the three of them began to fling themselves around wildly, screaming along to the song while Italy hummed and Germany clenched his teeth so hard that he felt two of them crack.

"Stop bouncing!" he roared finally, when he could stand it no longer. As he glared into the rearview mirror, Denmark reached into Washington's shirt and pulled out a single Peep. He ate it slowly, never taking his eyes off Prussia, who was trying unsuccessfully to retrieve the box. Washington kept moving, and he finally tore her blouse clean off.

"Ve, Washington," Italy exclaimed, eyeing her with sudden interest. "I think your shirt is torn."

Germany decided that he needed to crash the car, and crash it now.

He stepped on the gas, reaching deadly speeds before he realized that it was only setting them off more. He forced himself to calm down, trying not to look at Washington's impressive chest. How the hell could someone that small have a rack like that?

"Luddy!"

He facepalmed, slamming on the brakes. No, he absolutely had not just said that aloud. His brother and Denmark were laughing their heads off about something else. Italy was smirking at him because maybe he had something on his face, like egg, maybe...

This was shaping up to be the worst day yet.


	5. The Hill

He didn't want to watch.

He wanted to just ignore them and have fun, but it was like a car wreck. You just couldn't look away. Even Italy, who happened to be using his brother's camera to film whatever horrors those three were getting up to. Germany didn't need binoculars to see them up there, all three of them on that ridiculous snowboard. Instead of being safely locked into the bindings, the three were kneeling on the damn thing like it was a sled.

"Are you filming, Feli?" Washington hollered down to them. 

Italy gave her a thumbs up, and Germany thought, Since when does she call him Feli? Come to think of it, she'd also called Romano by his nickname, which he knew damn well nobody but a select few had permission to do.

Wild laughter echoed down to them. "Ok, here we go," Prussia shouted. Denmark ran behind, pushing them towards the brink, and leapt on as they went over, his heavier weight acting as a booster rocket. Germany stared as they picked up speed, flying down the 3000 foot mountain with no helmets, pads or protective gear of any kind. Too late, he realized that they would come blazing right past him. Just above where Italy stood filming was a small outcropping, and if they hit that at full speed, it would be a disaster. 

Germany imagined having to call America with the news that his crazy daughter had broken both arms and possibly her legs and skull. I tried to tell her not to come, but you know how she is. She never listens. 

The screaming of Washington and the guys came closer, and they were now going so fast that the snowboard was a blur. They hit the outcropping at that speed, and because they weren't exactly secured to the board, all three of them were badly jarred. As they sailed into the air past Germany and Italy, a blur flew off the back of the board, and Washington looked back.

"Mathias no!!" she screamed, reaching out as if she were trying to catch him. She and Prussia screamed, and threw their arms around each other as they shot downhill towards a tree.

"Ve," Italy murmured, not lowering the camera. "They're going to crash!"

Germany couldn't watch, but he also couldn't look away.

"Hang on Birdie," Prussia screamed, and they both flung themselves from the snowboard, shrieking with laughter as it slammed into the tree, impaling it. 

"Hey! Where's Den?" Washington gasped, wiping the tears from her face. Prussia scanned the hillside and pointed. 

"There! Let's go get him. Hey, Italy, did ya get all that?" he shouted as they ran past. 

Germany had never wanted to get drunk so badly in his life.


	6. The Towel

Finally. 

Peace and quiet.

Germany stretched out across the couch, his eyes closed. He had no way of knowing just how long the respite would last, so he wanted to enjoy every moment of it. After all, he hadn't had a moment's peace since...

Well, since Washington started hanging out with Prussia and Denmark. The two of them were worse than ever with America gone. It was just for a week, but Germany couldn't remember having a week that never seemed to end before now.

Italy had texted from the hospital, with the most unwelcome news that Denmark hadn't been seriously injured aside from a bump on the head, and they were going to head straight back to the resort as soon as he was given the all-clear.

Germany sighed. He wished he had never answered the e-mail about this retreat. It was turning into a great big knot of stress in his neck. Slowly he got up and went into the bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror. The red heat light was on, but the regular bulb seemed to have burned out Frowning, he flicked the light switch a few times, then decided it really didn't matter. He could still see enough to take a nice hot shower and work the tension out. 

He gathered his things and stepped into the shower, closing his eyes in bliss as the hot water and steam soothed his frazzled nerves. He could stay like this forever. And would have, if his phone hadn't started going crazy in the other room.

"Verdammt! Moment," he shouted, irritated that it had already been an hour and it had not been nearly long enough. He grabbed for his towel and dried himself off quickly, intending to throw on a pair of sweatpants, when he noticed something odd about his arm. 

He squinted, rubbing it with the towel, but in the red light of the bath, he couldn't really see anything amiss. Frowning, he brought the towel up to his face, studying it closely. It was just an ordinary towel, red, probably to match the walls. However he thought something about it seemed...off.

"Yo, Luddy!" Washington was suddenly banging on the door. "Are you almost done in there? We just got back from the hospital and I really need to pee..."

He stared at himself in the mirror, wondering what was in his hair. 

"Hey, uhm...you're not taking a shower or anything, are...you?" She went on. He could hear her mouthing something to the other two bozos. Even mouthing things they were loud. "Uh, I just remembered," she added, her voice squeaking. She seemed to be on the verge of either laughter or tears. He suddenly had a very bad feeling. "We..."

The light flickered and finally came on.

He stared at himself. 

He was red.

Completely covered in red streaks. He stared at his reflection in silence, hearing the three hellions in the other room begin to sputter. He raised the towel to his smeared face and sniffed.

Food coloring. 

"Oh no no no no," Washington laughed, losing it completely. "We better go..." As he flung the door open, she leapt over the couch, grabbing Prussia and Denmark. "Italy, run," she bawled, as they ran for their lives.


	7. The Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Even More Awesome Trio picks cherries.

There was just no way it could be possible. 

Germany knew, just knew, that a week had to have already passed. 

So why was Washington still here? America should have been back days ago. Yes, he was entirely capable of reading a calendar and Germany could see that it had been exactly nine days.

America, where the hell are you?

He sighed. Luckily, the three torturers seemed to have gone off somewhere, hopefully to get hit by a bus, and he was finally able to sit in the back yard to enjoy the warm sunshine in peace. With a pilsner and a good book it was shaping up to be a fine day. 

Oh, wait. Never fucking mind, because that would be merciful of the fates, wouldn't it?

Infuriating voices drifted out from behind the gardening shed. 

"Okay, Gil, you get down and I'll get up on your shoulders, and then Kate will get on mine and then you stand up," Denmark was saying. 

No, he was not going to ask them what they were doing. 

"Fuck you, Mathias. Kate will get on my shoulders and you'll be supporting us," Prussia insisted. 

"No! I'm taller than you!"

"Come on, guys! Just hurry up!" Washington demanded. "We gotta get em before they get too ripe. Gil, just...okay, now you...and...ow! Mathias, that's not gonna..."

No. He was absolutely not going to look. Clenching his teeth, Germany glared at the pages of his book, not seeing the words. Because it didn't matter whether or not he wanted to look. One way or another he would be forced to.

"Gil, don't walk so fast!"

"Well, it wouldn't be so awkward if you didn't insist that Kate sit on your shoulders. She should be sitting on mine. You're the heaviest."

Oh, what now. ...No, he refused to look up. He would not. No.

"Oh, Gil, don't be a sourpuss," Washington was saying. "You're obviously the strongest of all of us."

"Hey!"

"Awww, Birdie," Prussia said, sounding bashful. 

No. No, no no. 

But his head was turning to gaze in the direction of the voices. His eye twitched as he caught sight of Washington's bright red hair. Somehow she was a head above the roof of the gardening shed. She suddenly jerked forward, and Denmark yelled something in Danish, making her laugh. 

She came out from behind the shed and the beer fell from Germany's hand, shattering on the stonework. Washington hadn't somehow grown an extra seven feet tall. She was perched on a very satisfied-looking Denmark's shoulders; Denmark was in turn seated upon Prussia's. Germany did not need to see his Bruder's face to know that he was probably not as thrilled about Denmark as Denmark was about Washington. 

They were moving towards the cherry tree. 

Germany couldn't even blink. The book fell from his lap and landed in the puddle of beer, but he didn't even notice. As the three menaces weaved across the yard, he could only watch in morbid fascination. 

"Gil, slow down," Washington laughed, as Denmark gripped her thighs tighter. She looked down into his face and kissed his nose.

"Knock it off," Prussia screamed, nearly running into the tree. Washington reached out with one hand and stretched her arm to see if she could reach.

"Almost," she said. "Just a few...more...feet to ... the right." Then her face went right into the branches. She yelled with laughter. "No, to the left! Mathias, get your hand out of my blouse! Hahaha that tickles!"

Germany's eyes went from the three hellraisers to the ladder that rested against the shed. Back to the hellraisers. Ladder. Hellraisers. 

Why.

"Gil, stop!" Denmark shouted. "What are you doing?"

"Bee! Bee! Bee!" Washington screamed, as Prussia whirled around, swatting at the air with one hand. Denmark squeezed his legs together to keep from falling, and the whiplash from Prussia's movement sent Washington flying into the tree again.

"Oof! My eye!" she shrieked. "Fuck, Gilbert, stop!" 

It was too late. Denmark lost his balance, and as they toppled to the ground, Washington tried to stop their fall by grabbing a branch, but it was no use. Laughing hysterically, she and Denmark fell headfirst, their fall cushioned only by the grass.

"Bees!" Prussia shrieked, tearing across the yard. As he tried to evade the angry bees, Denmark and Washington got to their feet. Germany watched as she climbed onto his back and up into the tree. Then she held out her hands and helped him get onto the first branch. 

"Just sit there and I'll get the cherries," she said. 

"West!" Prussia screamed, charging at him. "Get the hose! Bees!" He frantically grabbed the hose and cranked the spigot. 

Germany had finally come to his senses. "No, you idiot! You don't spray them!" But it was too late. Prussia blasted the hose and aimed the spray of water towards the attacking bees and the tree.

Just as Washington leaned down to give a handful of cherries to Denmark, the force of the spray hit her in the face.

"Aaahh!" she cried, falling onto Denmark's branch. For a single deadly moment they sat there, not daring to move.

There was a long, sharp crack.

"Don't move, Birdie!" Prussia shouted up to her. "I'll save you!"

"No you won't!" Denmark shouted back. "You'll just bring the bees back over to us. I'm saving her."

"No!" Prussia grabbed a handful of the fallen cherries and threw them at Denmark. "Fuck off, I'll save her!"

As they fought like that, Washington turned to look down at Germany. "Luddy, get me down from here," she whisper-screamed. The other two idiots were so engrossed in their silly argument that they didn't even notice her climbing down into Germany's grasp. Without pausing to tell her friends she was already down, she grabbed Germany's arm and herded him into the house.

"C'mon, let's watch," she giggled, dragging him into the kitchen. "How long you think until they notice?"

"No," Germany corrected her, "how long until that branch breaks?"

Laughing, she swatted his arm and he found himself grinning back at her. Then they both turned back to the window. 

It was exactly three minutes before the two of them noticed that they were alone, and another thirty seconds before the branch broke, sending Denmark falling onto Prussia's head. 

Washington wheezed with contagious glee, and Germany actually felt himself begin to smile. Maybe it was still a fine day after all.


	8. The Boogeyman

Germany sighed in relief as he put the last of the dishes in their proper places. Even now, at almost nine in the evening, it was hard to believe, but it had been almost an entire day since the three paisans from hell had caused any sort of disaster. 

It was so blissfully quiet.

Germany hummed to himself as he tidied up, feeling that sense of giddiness he had come to associate with hearing that Denmark and Washington would be taking Prussia to a far-away place for several days. Too bad it had never happened, but he could and did dream about it. 

Often.

Suddenly in the mood for music, Germany went through to the living room and flipped through the vinyl collection he had been working on for the past ninety years. The oldest ones were the wax cylinders that had to be played on a special phonograph. 

Only his family and closest friends knew about his obsession with music, and they had all been sworn to secrecy. As he put a record on he thought again how quiet it was. How peaceful. Cocking his head to the side, he listened carefully, but the only sound came from the ticking of the cuckoo clock.

As the first notes filled the room, Germany felt himself beginning to relax, truly relax, for the first time in nearly a week and a half. The music and the warm breeze from the open windows, along with the fact that he was alone, oh yes, not even the sudden ringing of his telephone could spoil this evening.

"Hier spricht Ludwig," he answered, setting down in his favorite chair. 

"Hey, there, Germany dude! Is your awesome brother home?"

Germany sat up. "Amerika!" Oh, please tell me you're back and will be taking your horrible daughter away. Please please please let this be the best day ever. "You're back! No, mein Bruder isn't here. I don't know where he is. If you--"

America coughed. "Oh, well...actually, I'm not exactly back yet," he said. "I, uh...something came up."

"Oh," Germany felt his good mood deflate just a little. "Well, that's all right. I guess you're calling to check on Washington?"

"See, Iggy decided to surprise me and take me on a trip to Nepal!" America continued. "He tried to make it seem like he had no idea we were going until the last minute, haha. Even when we were on the plane he was telling me that he hadn't done any of it! He really outdid...wait, what?" He sounded suddenly confused. "Check on who?"

"Washington," Germany heard himself saying, his voice sounding very strange in his own ears. 

"Why would I need to be calling you to check on her?" America asked. 

Just then, out of the corner of his eye, Germany caught a fleeting glimpse of someone's bright red head rising slowly up from behind the couch. He whipped his head around to stare, but nothing was there.

He laughed nervously. 

"Well, since she's been hanging out with your two horribl...y awesome friends," he managed to correct himself just in time.

"Really? I just talked to her like twenty minutes ago," America said. "Y'know, it was kinda weird because she said I should call you and check on you."

Germany felt his heart begin to pound. Something shifted in the room behind him and he steeled himself to look, but once again nothing was there. "What for?" he asked, staring hard at the hallway. He could have sworn he heard something. The hair on his arms began to stand straight up.

"Can you believe that woman?" America was saying, now. "The things she comes up with. Out of all my kids, she is the only one who isn't afraid of the boogeyman, and here she is calling me to tell me to warn you about an escaped lunatic."

Germany's guts gave a great and unlovely heave. "What?" His eyes darted around and he quickly grabbed the nearest thing he could find to use as a weapon. He stared at the spiked club in his hand, confused. Since when did he keep a mace lying around? "An escaped lunatic?" He backed up against the wall, staring wildly around the room because now he was absolutely certain he had heard something. 

"Yeah, dude! She said it was all over the radio," America said. "Hey, you okay there, Germany?"

"Ja," Germany said, flinging the record off the turntable and running over to the radio. Luckily, it was already tuned into the news station. 

"We interrupt your regular news program for a special urgent bulletin," the announcer said. "This just in, a dangerous psychopath has escaped from Krankenhaus Hedwigshöhe and was last seen heading into the Bergmannkiez area of Berlin. Lock all doors and windows. Do not answer the door. This man is armed and violently dangerous."

His eyes darted around the room again. There, he thought. The noise! Something was behind the couch. He raced around the house, slamming the windows and checking the locks on all the doors. If some insane murdering psycho was in the house with him, he was not going to let whoever it was get away!

"I know you are in here," he shouted. 

"Germany?" America was still on the other end of the phone. "Hey, dude, what's going on?"

"Amerika," Germany hissed, "he's in my house!"

"What? Who's there?"

"The escaped lunatic! I've got him locked in here with me. If he thinks he can scare me--"

"No, dude! Call the cops! Get out of there!" America shouted. Germany's eyes rested on the wall, where a shadow had begun to rise up from the darkest corner of the room.

"Come and get me, you bastard," he muttered. The shadow loomed larger, and he could sense someone stealthily approach him from behind. Gripping the mace, he closed his eyes, said a brief prayer, then after considering it added a quick apology for never taking the opportunity to look up Washington's skirt when she was in the cherry tree, and whirled with a mighty roar to attack. He swung the mace with all his strength and his eyes flew open when it connected with someone's body. 

He stared in horror.

Washington lay across the room in a pile of splintered wood, having flown into his bookshelf with enough force to demolish it. Alerted by the noise, Denmark and Prussia raced into the room. When he saw Washington lying there, Prussia turned to Denmark and shouted, "He got Birdie!" They then both saw him, standing half in the shadows, and charged at him.

"You murdering bastard!" Prussia screamed, as he and Denmark slammed into him, knocking him to the floor. "You'll never get away with this! You--" He broke off, peering at him. "Mathias, it's Ludwig!"

"You're the escaped lunatic!" Denmark shouted. 

"No! Get off me," Germany roared. "It was an accident!"

"This just in," the radio announcer said suddenly. "The escaped lunatic has been found. It appears that he never escaped from the hospital in the first place. This has all been a terrible mistake. Ve, our sincere apologies. "

From the pile of wood came that accursed giggle of Washington's. "Guys, we really got him," she groaned, struggling to sit up. She finally had to hold her hands out for Denmark and Prussia to help her. "That was awesome."

Germany stood there, staring at them and listening to them giggling madly. He felt his hands tighten on the grip of the mace, felt his face break out into a wide, insane grin. Prussia noticed the way he was staring at them.

"Uh, guys," he began. "Guys, I think he's mad."

"Run," Washington gasped and they made for the door, but it was locked and double bolted.

"No," Germany breathed, closing in on them as they screamed in terror. "You three aren't going anywhere."

Somehow they managed to dive between his legs and run for the hallway, but it was only a brief escape, because the upstairs windows were all locked too. He followed them grimly, one objective in mind. As he closed in on them, he relished the terror in their faces. He could see his reflection in their eyes.

Yes, this was going to be the last time they ever tormented him.

"No, West," Prussia screamed. 

"Don't do it, Ludwig!" Denmark pleaded. 

Washington just stood there huddled in their arms, trembling like a leaf. Her eyes were shut tight and she was practically sobbing in fear. Good. Good. He wanted her to cry.

He was going to make them all cry.

As he raised the mace, Washington opened her eyes.

No! Don't look at them, his mind shouted. Don't let her look at you!

He hesitated. 

She smiled. 

No! No! No! Strike them down. Beat them. Beat them bloody! 

She was leaning towards him.

What is she doing? Hit her! Look at that face. 

She kissed him.

The mace fell from his hands. 

He barely heard Prussia and Denmark yelling in triumph and didn't even move aside as they ran past him and down the stairs. He could only stand in the spot they had lured him to, his head down, his face burning with rage and shame. He stood there, trembling in fury until he thought he would explode. 

But he didn't explode. 

A tranquility suddenly overcame him. He stood there and let it wash through him, his body relaxing. For he now knew what he must do to complete his vengeance. 

Oh, my yes.

Vengeance would be his.


	9. The Plan

Prussia and Denmark were playing Doom as they waited for Washington to get there, and they were in the middle of a vicious level when Denmark's phone buzzed. Prussia glared at the screen as Denmark glanced at his phone. "God damn it, Dane! This fucking bitch is chasing us and you have to answer your phone now?" He threw his controller down. "Might as well just die now."

"Shut up, Gil, it's Kate and she's on her way," Denmark said. "Is your brother home?"

"Hmm, no," Prussia sighed. "He finally decided that it would be safer for him to just stay away from us. He's at Italy's."

"Oh yeah," Denmark added, gazing at his phone. "She says Italy said yes."

Prussia sneered. "Of course he did," he said. "Haven't you noticed the way he looks at her when he thinks we aren't looking? If Washington asked me on a date, I'd say yes. Why couldn't she ask one of us?"

Denmark sighed. "I don't know. " He shook his head. "It should have been me, anyways! I'm the one who held onto the pan the longest."

"You were not," Prussia argued. "This is so unawesome! Italy didn't even touch the pan, so why him, of all people?"

The front door opened and closed. A few seconds later, Germany looked into the room. 

"Oh, shit, it's you," he said, darkly. "I thought you were going somewhere." 

"We're just waiting for Kate to get here," Prussia said, and Germany scowled, nearly crushing his officer's cap. 

"Why is she still here?" He snapped. "America got back from Nepal three days ago. This isn't happening," he said, threateningly. His eyes narrowed as Denmark's phone buzzed. "Let me guess, it's Washington."

"Uh huh," Denmark muttered. "Uh, Gil, she said she needs us to make a reservation at the marina for her date with--"

"Sh!" Prussia hissed, punching him. "Okay, I'm on it."

Germany looked at them in suspicion. "Washington has a date with who?" he demanded. 

They glanced at each other. Prussia gulped. "Well, remember the time with the strüdel pan?" he began. "We were trying to see which one of us could hold onto it the longest."

"We made a bet," Denmark added. "The one who didn't let go would get to take her on a date."

"I still think it was me," Prussia insisted, "but she said it was too close to call. So she decided--"

Germany began to laugh. Of course that was it. "So she can't make up her mind which one of you is the biggest moron," he snarked. "So, you're both going to be torturing her on this date?"

They looked at each other again.

Germany laughed harder. "Oh, that poor thing. No," he gasped, "what am I saying? She deserves it. Hahaha. Gilbert, what are you doing?" he demanded as his brother swiped viciously at his phone. 

"Trying to make a reservation for a fucking sailboat," Prussia snapped. "But the website is down. We need that reservation, Mathias! It's for tomorrow!"

Germany turned to leave the room, then paused, deep in thought. A dark plan had begun to take form in his mind. Ever since two days ago, when these three horrible assholes had played that awful trick on him. He was going to get even with all of them. Well, almost all of them. Even though Italy had been involved, he couldn't bring himself to stay mad at him. After all, he was just an innocent participant. He had no way of knowing why the three of them wanted him to put out a fake radio broadcast. 

Germany had a plan. And it was the most superior of plans. "Your date is tomorrow, you say?"

"Yeah, Luddy, but--"

"Don't worry about it," Germany interrupted. "I know the owner of the marina. I can get a reservation for you."

Denmark and Prussia looked at each other again. "Okay," Prussia said, "but we're not--"

"I'll call him now," Germany said, smoothly. "And I'll even go down there myself just to make sure you get the nicest boat. Don't worry about a thing." He practically ran from the room, trembling in anticipation. His hand shook as he dialed his friend at the marina. It just so happened that there were three boats to choose from, and all of them were very nice. 

"You might want to come down here now, to choose the one you want," the Dutchman said. "I've already got two other people interested, but I'll let you have first dibs."

Germany couldn't get there fast enough. He wanted to make sure that he could get everything he needed now, so that it was all ready by the time those three villains were ready to go on their date. Pff, who went on a date with the people you constantly hung out with? Honestly, he would have thought that she at least had better taste in men. 

Once he had secured the boat, he drove into Lichtenburg. He had called ahead to tell his old contact he would be coming, and everything was already waiting for him. He loaded it into his car and placed the envelope full of photographs into the nearby mailbox. The Hungarian woman never asked for money in payment for her service. She wanted blackmail, and he had plenty of damning photographs of her ex-husband, who also happened to be his cousin. 

He had to hurry, because it was getting dark. His Dutch friend would keep the gates to the marina open until midnight, but he needed to get this done while it was still daylight, because a flashlight would arouse suspicion. It was a good thing that he had plenty of experience in this sort of thing. He parked his car next to the ramp, unloading his cargo as quickly as possible. He didn't think most people would be able to recognize plastic explosives, but you could never be too sure. Working quickly, he crafted his magnum opus. By the time he finished, the sailboat was rigged with enough PE-4 to blow them clear to Poland. 

He chuckled darkly. If only he could be there to see their faces. But he had a meeting that couldn't be missed, so he'd have to suffice with hearing about it later. Whistling happily, he put things back in order and strolled to his car.

When he saw who was leaning against it, he screamed. 

"What are you doing, Luddy?" Washington asked. "I came down here to reserve a boat for tomorrow, but they've been leased already. Did you get one?"

He clenched his teeth. "No! Anyway, it's not for me. I heard that you were going sailing tomorrow and I said I'd get one for you. The website was down. Why were you lurking around here? Did those fools put you up to it?" He glared around, not seeing either Prussia or Denmark, but he had learned the hard way that it meant nothing. "Where are they?"

She laughed. "Your house! I stopped here on my way over. First I had to go see Italy and drop off my secret box," she added. "So can I get a ride with you? "

Grudgingly he acquiesced and to his surprise she didn't say one annoying thing for the entire drive. It wasn't that she was quiet, but she began to talk about something that he was actually very passionate about himself.

"The concept of discipline is so different between Americans and Europeans," she said. "I've never quite understood why. It's common sense. If you want to accomplish something consummately, you have to be the absolute best. Suffer no rival." 

Oh, yes, he knew all about being the best. And as for suffering. ...

"See, that's where those guys are mistaken," she went on. "Don't get me wrong, I love spontaneous antics as much as anyone, but the ultimate antic is one that takes months of planning."

"Or days," he suggested. She looked suprised. "Really, Washington, as an antic master, you know you can accomplish a great deal in just a few days." Look at what you've done in just a fortnight, he added silently. She beamed at him.

"Aww, Luddy, how sweet! An antic master. Do you really think so?"

He gave her his most charming smile. "Oh, absolutely. There is nobody else as skilled as you. Mein Bruder and Denmark pale in comparison. Even Amerika is no competition."

To his surprise, her face turned bright red and she hastily looked away.

He laughed to himself. 

Revenge would be his.

The lights were all off when he pulled into the driveway, but she bounded right out of the car and even let herself in. He faintly heard her squealing as the two idiots either ambushed her or brought her down with a booby trap. He sighed. It was going to be a better night now that he had something to look...forward to...

Wait. 

Had Washington said 'secret box'?

He frowned. Italy had never mentioned any secret box. He would have to call him and ask about it, he decided. 

No! What the hell? He could have no distractions. Washington had probably only mentioned her so-called 'secret box' to throw him off her real intention. That little spy, he seethed. Had Prussia put her up to it?

Whatever. It didn't matter. In less than twenty four hours he would at last be victorious over the infernal Even More Awesome Trio.


	10. The Conversation

A beautiful Saturday morning. 

Germany stretched his arms over his head and kept his eyes closed for a few minutes longer, enjoying the cool, refreshing breeze that came through the windows. His inner clock told him that it wasn't quite eight o'clock, and he was content to simply lie there for a few more minutes until he was either forced to get up or decided to go back to sleep. He rarely slept past eight, though.

That infuriating giggling. They were out on the patio, eating breakfast and doing fuck knows what else. For a brief second he felt his blood pressure rising, but then he remembered. Everything was going to be just fine. All he had to do was wait.

He was patient.

"Gil, don't eat all the fucking bacon! I had to butcher that pig," Washington pointed out. 

"You might have been the one to butcher the pig, but who found it?" Denmark asked. Washington nodded knowingly. "C'mon, Gil. Don't eat all the bacon!"

"So," Prussia began, glancing up at Germany's open window. "Are you ready for your date this afternoon, Birdie?"

"Yes," Washington said, excitedly. "I can't wait. I've never been sailing on a lake before!"

"Wait a minute," Denmark laughed. "You're covered in lakes and rivers and you have like twenty bays, plus the Pacific Ocean, and you've never been sailing?"

Washington laughed back and pelted him with blueberries. "I just said I've never been sailing on a lake, which is true. I've been sailing everywhere else."

"I could give you a sailing lesson," Denmark suggested. 

"No way, Den," Prussia said. "If anyone is going to give sailing lessons it will be me."

"I know how to sail," Washington laughed. 

"Not the way I sail," Denmark insisted. 

They laughed.

Germany put his pillow over his face. Oh well. He only had to wait another six hours or so. They'd be sailing all the way to the Baltic sea. He began to giggle. It sounded foreign in his own ears and felt even stranger. Fuck it, who cared? This was going to be epic. He rolled around on his bed, still laughing to himself. 

Someone cleared her throat.

"Washington, damn you!" he shouted, his face flaming. She was standing in the doorway to his room, staring at him. How long had she been lurking there? He noticed that she seemed quite good at the whole lurking around thing. "What are you doing?!"

"Maybe I should be asking you the same thing," she replied, raising an eyebrow. "No, but seriously, Luddy. I made breakfast. You should have some." She turned and disappeared down the stairs again. It took him another few seconds to realize what she had said, and then he flew out of bed, getting dressed and presentable as quickly as possible. Dashing down the stairs, he raced into the kitchen, anticipating a disaster area, but to his surprise, the kitchen was as tidy and orderly as he always kept it. He sagged against the doorway in relief.

"I bet you thought I trashed your kitchen," Washington said, sneaking up on him yet again. He forced himself to stay completely unreadable. She acted like it was no big deal and handed him a plate of food. "Those gluttonous hooligan buddies of mine," she said shaking her head. "They ate nearly everything. I managed to save you some."

He looked at her, then at the plate of food. She laughed.

"Well, it's not poisoned, Luddy," she said, looking slightly hurt. "I wouldn't do that." 

Embarrassed that she could see through him so easily, he concentrated on making his face as stony as possible. Ordinarily when he did this, other nations would look away or even flee in terror, but as one of America's stronger coastal states, it wasn't likely that she was very afraid of him. Sure enough, she sat right down in the chair across from him with a cup of her signature coffee and watched him eat. And it just so happened that in addition to making excellent coffee, she was also a skilled chef, though he would never ever admit it to her. Another thing that he was unwilling to admit was how uneasy he felt having her stare at him like that. He almost preferred it when she giggled like a loon and chuntered on about what she could do with a bobby pin and a cherry.

Almost.

He managed to finish breakfast without a single incident, and when a half-hour passed and he hadn't died or begun to hallucinate, he figured he might as well go thank her for making breakfast. Following the loud grinding noise back into the kitchen, he was surprised to see her stuffing the blender with fruit and ice cream. It suddenly dawned on them that he hadn't actually seen her eat any of the food she had made. "Washington, what are you doing?"

"Hey, man," she said cheerfully. He blinked in surprise at this. Sure, she often spoke with a smile in her voice, but it was more of a mischievous kind of smile, full of trouble and ill intention, rather than a happy one. So he couldn't be blamed for feeling nervous. "I'm just making myself breakfast, now that you've all had yours."

Startled, he couldn't think of a word to say.

"I guess I should've asked if you wanted orange juice, but they drank all of that and there aren't any more oranges," she went on.

She'd made orange juice? Normally either he or Prussia would have just bought some. "You mean that you didn't get any of the food you made?" he demanded. "You ought to have eaten it yourself then. I could have made something else."

She made a derisive sound, and he was relieved that she was at least reacting normally. But then she said something that knocked the wind from his sails and nearly made him reconsider his master plans for her and her two fellow tornadoes of catastrophe. "I didn't make it for me. That was for you guys. I didn't expect Gilbert to be such a greedy little bastard about the bacon, though."

"You made all that food for someone else?"

She shrugged. "Sure."

He let out an incredulous bark of laughter. "And you're Amerika's daughter?"

Clearing her throat, Washington glanced around the room quickly. "Actually. Promise you won't tell Gilbert. Mathias already knows. But...I'm entirely adopted." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Finland and Russia are my parents."

He stared at her.

Suddenly everything about her made sense. 

Except for one thing.

"How are your eyes not purple, then?"

She choked on her drink. "I thought you were going to ask about my red hair," she sputtered.

He waved a hand dismissively. "No, it's obvious that you color it," he said. "Who the hell has blood-red hair? What is this, an anime?" She cocked her head in agreement. "I know you are really blonde. Mein Bruder told me." He frowned slightly as it suddenly occurred to him how quiet it was. "Where are they?"

"Eh? Where are who?" she asked, but he saw the sharp gleam in her eyes and knew she knew exactly who he meant. "They hadda go do something real quick. You know, even if it seems that way, we aren't together all the time." She suppressed a laugh. "I can't get any sleep next to your damn brother, and Denmark never wants to actually sleep, if you know what I mean."

Germany's face went hot.

"So I usually go over to Italy's house," Washington went on. She noticed the redness of his cheeks, because of course she did. He was beginning to understand that she noticed everything, especially if you tried to hide it. "Are you blushing because of that? That I spend the night at Italy's? He's a very gracious host. Y'know? A lot of countries could learn a thing or two from the two of them."

"Uh, no," he said, gruffly. He would not, under any circumstances ever, admit that he even briefly imagined what she looked like in bed with Denmark, minus the Denmark. "Excuse me, but I have to get ready for my..."

She looked at him, her eyes narrow. "Your what?"

"My meeting! Ja, ich muss bei einer Treffung. Sorry," he babbled. Then he got the hell out of there as fast as he could. He had already taken a shower, but another one, this one with ice-cold water and all his clothes on, sounded terrific. As he raced upstairs he could hear his three tormentors raging on about whatever his Bruder and Denmark had got up to while they were gone. Oh well, he thought. 

Soon.


	11. The Secret Box

He hated them.

"And then I said--I said that you--" Washington's words dissolved into a breathless wheeze as Denmark and Prussia hooted with laughter. "...Sleep!" she managed to gasp out. "Hee hee hee hee hee hee heeee..." One of them banged on the table as they all shared a laugh, at his expense, of course. "You should have seen his face..."

"Oh my God," Denmark moaned, laughing breathlessly. 

Germany glared at his newspaper, not bothering to read it anymore. He briefly considered yelling out to them that he could hear every last chortle that issued forth from their infernal mouths. But he forced himself to calm down. Soon enough he would be literally blasting their ship right out of the water. The only part about his plans that he didn't necessarily look forward to was having to explain to America what had happened. But he was positive that America would be sympathetic. After all, he most definitely would be aware of her insufferable antics. Germany sighed. Poor America. To have to live with the knowledge that his daughter was the ringleader of the tormentors. Germany also wondered if he ever regretted adopting her.

It was only noon, so he still had a few hours before he had to be at his meeting, but he really wanted to get out of the house and as far away from his suffering as possible. As he strode out of the house, he debated avoiding going through the alley, so he wouldn't have to listen to their infuriating braying as he walked past, but going the long way around would shave too much time off any peaceful interlude he might get at the park. Gritting his teeth, he cut into the alley. 

Washington was still giggling, and Denmark was also having trouble. Then she managed to pull herself together enough to attempt a question. "Ohhhhhh. But really Gil, there was that muh...huh..huh...?" She began to wheeze again. "He must really ha..." Annnnnd they were off again.

Germany had to admit that her laugh was extremely contagious, and he could never quite keep a straight face when he heard it, if he was not the reason for it. It just seemed like he was always the reason for it lately. What was it about him that made her target him so relentlessly? They hadn't even fought much, except for that one time, and it hadn't been his fault. They were on the same team and everything. He had been fighting against that knothead Russia for five years already and was in desperate need of help. Amerika had finally entered the war but Washington had not actually gotten there until two years later in the Ardennes. She'd done her usual lurking around and had caught him unawares, punching him so hard that his jaw had shattered. She had stood over him with that chest of hers heaving, and then without a word she kicked snow in his face and walked away. Amerika had apologized as he helped him up and brushed him off. 

"Sorry, dude," he'd said, "but I didn't let her have a cup of coffee this morning, and we woke up kinda early." He had chuckled a little. "So, uh, don't be surprised if she blames you for the entire war!"

Oh no, he thought. Was that it? Was that the reason for her sadistic glee whenever he was caught in their web of antics? A missed cup of coffee? Dear fucking God, this could go on for years. He hadn't even started the damn war.

He didn't go to the park. He walked for quite a long time and found himself going through the back door of the Italies' Berlin residence. They would only be here for another few weeks and then they would return home for the rest of the year. All nations attending the world meetings had homes here because of the long series of meetings and workshops that took place here each spring. He had keys to all of them, unbeknownst to the others. 

The house was quiet, and although there didn't seem to be anyone there, Germany still hurried for the stairs. Hopefully he could get into Feli's room and find out what was up with Washington's secret box. It had been on his mind since last night, and now that he was here, there was nothing to keep him from rifling through Feli's room to find it.

It didn't take long. Either she was shit at hiding things or she intended for it to be found. A funny feeling crept into his gut. Knowing her as well as he did--which really wasn't all that well--he was completely aware of the fact that she most definitely never did anything without a specific reason. If she really didn't want anyone to find that secret box, then nobody would find it. Yet here he was standing in the middle of Feliciano's room with the little box in his hands. She hadn't really hidden it at all, had just put it on the damn bookshelf right where anyone could see it.

"All right, bastard," Romano's voice was like a kick in the head. "What do you think you're doing, going through my brother's room?"

Germany quickly hid the box behind his back. "I, uh, was supposed to meet Feliciano," he said. It was the first thing that came to his mind. 

"Feli isn't here," Romano said flatly. Frowning, Germany looked at his watch. He realized that there was only an hour before the sailboat bomb went live. As soon as Denmark leaned in to kiss her--he hoped it was Denmark and not Prussia--the boat would be blasted to smithereens. 

"What are you leering at, bastard?" Romano shouted. 

Germany quickly wiped the smile from his face. "Nothing. When will he be back? Where is he?"

"None of your business," Romano grunted. "He said you weren't to know. What the hell do you have behind your back?"

Before he could deny having anything, Romano charged towards him and pulled his hands out from behind his back. "Thought so. That is not your box, bastardo."

"No," Germany admitted, "well..."

"'Well', what?"

He clenched his teeth. "Washington said she wanted me to have what was in the box," he lied. To his surprise, Romano huffed in concession.

"All right, so she did," he said, angrily. "Listen, you big dumb bastard, the only reason I didn't put a cap in your ass is because Washington told me you'd come sniffing around here after that damned box. So you weren't being stealthy at all. Well? Open it up!"

The box was really quite intricate, carved from the cedar trees that blanketed her coastal mountains. The wood was fragrant, and smelled like her, Germany noticed. It was pleasant. As he opened the box the hinges creaked. He wasn't sure what he expected to find, but he did worry just a second too late if the box might be rigged with an explosive. But nothing happened. He looked into the box in surprise. 

Inside was an amethyst geode and a small piece of paper. The paper had been folded into a little triangle and tucked into the geode. Always prepared, Germany fished a pair of tweezers from his pocket and removed the triangle of paper, then used the tweezers to unfold it.

If you seek what is true,

Do not despair 

Return to your home 

And see who is there. 

Germany's eye twitched. Romano glared at him.

"All right, potato bastard," he snarled, "you got your treasure map. Now go on and get outta here. Leave the box," he added. "She said you could have what was in it, not the box." As Germany walked past him, he shook his head disapprovingly. "I don't know what that idiota sees in you."

Unwilling to start a fight with the scrappy Romano, Germany chose to ignore that and headed out the door. He didn't really want to go back to the house, because they were most definitely at the lake by now, but somehow Washington had known he would be looking for the box and had purposely left him some sort of clue.

A sudden, wild idea occurred to him. Not that he believed it for one second, of course, but what if her message to him meant that she hadn't gone to the lake with those irritating morons after all? Maybe she wanted to spend time with him.

The idea both flustered and terrified him.

But of course it was ridiculous. 

And yet. 

He began to hurry.


	12. The Boat

He heard them before he even opened the door.

"Are you sure he's going to show up here? How do you know he even went to Feli's?" Denmark demanded. 

"She said, man. All she hadda do was say 'secret box' and she..."

Flinging the door open, Germany charged into the house.

"What are you doing here?" he bellowed. "Where is Washington?" He looked around, feeling as though he were about to burst into flames. 

Denmark and Prussia looked at each other, exchanging a sly smile. "She's on her sailing date, remember?" Prussia asked.

Germany closed his eyes and shouted, "Why aren't you two idiots with her?"

They began to laugh. "Why would we go on her date with her?" Denmark asked. "It should have been with me, but what the hell."

His eyes flew open. "Who is with her?" he demanded. Prussia scoffed.

"Well, Italy, duh," he said sneering. 

Germany's heart stopped. For a few moments he was practically dead on his feet. The boat would explode and Romano would kill him. Amerika would be furious because he was Washington's father, or whatever, and friends with both Italies. Spain, in solidarity with Romano, would protest, and then France... It would be a never-ending headache. 

What had he done?

"Hey, what's wrong with you?" Prussia screamed. Germany barely heard him. As he tore out of the house he also didn't register their laughter. All he heard was the booming of his own heart as he ran as fast as he could towards the lake. He didn't hear Prussia and Denmark panting as they tried to keep up.

"Why...didn't he...drive..."

He only ran faster. 

After what seemed to be an eternity, the masts of the boats finally came into view. Without slowing down he cut through the car park and jumped the gates.

He tore down the dock and leapt into the water, not even bothering to take his shirt off. Almost immediately the heavy fabric weighed him down, but he powered right through it and swam as fast as he could towards the doomed sailboat. He had less than three minutes before the bomb was live and if Italy even so much as moved towards her, his shifting weight on the seat would blast them into oblivion. 

Behind him, the faint sounds of Prussia and Denmark screaming reached him. Had he bothered to glance back, he would have been horrified to see them on their knees, howling with laughter. He was focused only on the looming disaster. 

"Ita...Italy!" he managed to gasp out, but he was still too far away to be heard. "Feli!"

He could see plainly that they were seated quite close to each other, and Washington was laughing gaily at something Italy was saying to her. Germany had just enough time to wonder at how very charming Italy could be. 

Oh, no.

Washington was closing her eyes, still laughing, and they began, ever so slightly, to lean towards each other. 

"Italy, no," he roared. "Don't..."

He finally reached the side of the boat. He weighed a ton now, thanks to his waterlogged wool uniform, but he surged out of the water and into the boat, grabbing Italy and tossing him overboard. Washington, with her eyes still closed, had no idea what had happened. Germany, now occupying the spot Italy had just been thrown from, realized too late that she wasn't going to stop what she was doing.

He closed his eyes, steeling himself. 

Better him than Italy.

The high, booming roar shook the entire lake, and he dimly registered something akin to a brilliant sunrise behind his eyes. His heart pounded so hard that he was sure it was going to burst. He kept his eyes shut, and waited to hit the water.

Nothing happened. 

Well, not exactly nothing. Washington had been on the verge of kissing Italy, and because Germany had so suddenly interrupted it, she had not even had time to realize that Italy was no longer in the boat with her. All she knew was that they were about to go in for a kiss and she intended to make it happen. 

Oh, there was an explosion all right. Germany's eyes flew wide open, but instead of throwing her into the water, he simply sat there and it continued to happen. 

Over her shoulder, Germany saw that on the shore, Denmark and Prussia were shrieking with laughter. They were practically rolling around on the ground. Italy was dragging himself onto the little beach, and looked back at him and waved, smiling brightly.

Her eyes were open. 

She was smiling. He could feel it against his mouth. Finally, he managed to tear himself away from her, glaring helplessly as his feet frantically felt along the floorboards for the explosives. 

"What are you doing, Ludwig?" she asked in a dangerous voice. "Looking for something?"

He froze. 

Her mouth was turned up in a gleeful, triumphant smile. Suddenly he realized that their arms were still around each other and he tore free roughly. "You," he began, in a low, trembling voice.

She winced, pressing her lips together as she fought to keep from giggling. He felt his hands ball into fists. "You!!" he repeated, his voice rising. 

"Aaaaaaahahahahaaaaa!!" Denmark and Prussia roared, pounding the ground with their fists.

Germany suddenly felt something within him snap. All at once, he was filled with the deepest tranquility he had ever known. As the feeling washed over him, he saw with serene joy the triumphant glee on Washington's face turn to uncertainty. Oh, she had done it, all right. He saw it all clearly now. Every single moment, from that first bag of packing peanuts--no, even before that. Amerika had been surprised that he had had to attend the London conference. For some reason it hadn't been written on his schedule. Because of course it wasn't. 

Every single hellish thing that those three incorrigible sadists had done had been a means to this end. She had constantly given him little clues, as blatantly as actually coming right out and telling him. Her words from the night before now came back to him:

_"I love spontaneous antics as much as anyone, but the ultimate antic is one that takes months of planning."_

Indeed.

He felt a wide, deranged smile form on his face. Yes, she had gotten him good. But now, she was trapped on the sailboat with him in the middle of the lake. Now, now he could reap his righteous vengeance and have nothing but bliss in his heart. 

"You," he breathed, relishing the unease on her face. 

"H...hey," she began, and damn it, why did it still seem like she was trying not to laugh? "You're not mad or anything, right?"

"Oh, my, no," he purred as he calmly removed his ruined shirt. From the shore the roars of his Bruder and Denmark still came. Didn't matter. "I just thought you'd like to actually go sailing." He stood there and looked down at her, his eyes half-closed. Yes, she was definitely on alert, he saw, but not scared. "I don't know what you were thinking, Washington. Italy cannot sail."

"Well, I didn't ask Italy to come out on the water with me because I thought that he could," she informed him. "If that were the case I would've invited Denmark or that guy who owns these boats. Not based on sailing ability."

"What? Why didn't you ask one of those morons you constantly hang out with, you twit? Denmark is practically mooning over you."

She looked scandalized. "Luddy, yew. I can't date Denmark. We're bros...I mean, he's like my best good close friend." She bounced on the seat and gestured. "Okay, let's sail then. You do know how, don't you?"

"Of course I do!" He paused. Let it sink in for a moment, Washington, he thought. You have no idea what you have just started. 

Or...

Did she?

His eye twitched. "That's it," he hissed. "I've just about had enough of your trolling, Washington." He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "I know all about that strüdel pan bet. Why didn't you bring Gilbert out here?"

She sighed, looking very satisfied with herself. "Well, obviously, you wouldn't have come flying down here if it was him, Luddy. You rigged our sailboat with enough explosives to send us clear to Latvia! Man," she added, giggling helplessly. "I had no idea you hated us that much."

His eyes narrowed. "You," he hissed again, closing in on her. She continued to chuckle, seemingly unafraid of his reaction. "You planned all of it! Every last second!"

Laughing uncontrollably, she nodded.

"Why you--" he clenched his fists, itching to either hit her or toss her overboard. 

She finally stopped guffawing and fixed him with a deadly stare. "Now," she began, "say it."

"Never."

She raised an eyebrow. "Say it or else I'll kiss you again."

"I won't! You'll have...you'll have to...yo...ha...I hate you," he hissed.

"Say it, Ludwig. Tell me that I am Lord Paramount of Antics and Master of the Jinx that are hi."

He shook his head. "No! Don't be ridiculous! I can't say that. The words are wrong. You're a woman!"

"Oh, so you noticed," she said.

"You are the worst troll I have ever had the misfortune of being forced to put up with," Germany said, seething. 

She smiled. "Worst? Or best?" She didn't take her eyes from him. "I'm waiting for you to validate my superiority as a prankster, Luddy. And I meant what I said."

Suddenly he was filled with a savage, quivering smugness. "You don't have the guts to do it."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

They didn't move. 

"I knew it," Germany sniffed. "Coward."

Sudden clouds raced in to completely block the sun. Startled, he looked up and cringed as huge raindrops began to pelt them.

"What did you just say?" Washington asked, quietly.

"I called you a--oof," he grunted, as she shoved him down. He hit the deck, barely able to catch himself. 

"Take it back."

"No."

"Take it back, or I'll--"

He would forever rue what came out of his mouth then. "Or what, you'll sink the boat with your measly little rainstorm?"

She leaned down to give him the single most chilling smile he had ever seen. "You mean this? Oh, my dear foolish _Germany_. Ohhhhhh, my, no. This is nothing, Ludwig. Mere drizzle. Slight breeze." She laughed brightly. "But if you want to keep taunting me..." She trailed off as the winds and rain increased in intensity. All the while staring at him in simple, savage victory. "Or you can take back what you just said and maybe we'll make it back to sh--"

He was tired of her voice. After being continuously bombarded with it for the past two weeks, he needed her to shut up. And there was only one way to do it.

His hand shot up and he yanked her down by the wrist. This would shut her up, and hopefully also silence those deranged idiots yodelling on shore. He understood completely that this had also been a part of her nefarious plan, but he just didn't care anymore. It was better this way, anyways. 

He was, after all, better at kissing when he was prepared. 


	13. The Coffee

Germany looked through the cupboards twice, just to make sure. Yes, it was true.

They were out of coffee. 

Knowing full well what the implications would be if he didn't immediately correct the situation, he grabbed his keys and dashed out the front door, passing a seemingly zoned-out Denmark along the way. Playing Doom again. He just couldn't bring himself to be annoyed at the Dane this morning, because...well...

He smiled to himself. "Don't wake Kate, please," he said simply as he went out the door. Denmark merely grunted, but Germany knew that as soon as he left, Denmark's delayed reaction would be thus: 

As the door closed, Denmark's eyes went wide, and he slowly lowered the controller. Then he shrugged and continued to play, though his heart wasn't quite in it because with Washington now out of his reach, he would have to suffice with harmless teasing and keep his fucking hands to himself.

He thought about waking Gilbert to tell him what had happened but decided not to. Gil would be crushed. Well, maybe not crushed, but he would be disappointed. Plus, Denmark wanted to see the look on Prussia's face when he realized that Washington had spent the night here and who she had spent the night with.

He continued to kill monsters. 

Prussia, meanwhile, was just getting out of bed. He was only slightly hung over from last night, and couldn't quite remember how he had gotten home. After Washington had gone off sailing into that sudden torrential downpour (which had lasted exactly seventeen minutes and forty seconds) he and Denmark had fled to a nearby pub and had gotten completely trashed. Well, he had gotten trashed.

Faintly he heard the screams of creatures being mown down by the Doom guy. Denmark must have made sure he got home okay, Prussia thought. He staggered out of bed and out into the hall. 

As he passed Germany's room he paused. The door was still shut, and that was very unusual because as Prussia well knew, Germany always woke up before eight o'clock and left the door to his room open so that the dogs could come and go as they wanted. 

Prussia smirked. There was no way he was going to let Germany think he could just sleep in whenever he wanted! Not when there was so much trouble Washington and Denmark could get into with the awesome Prussia. Grinning evilly, he opened the door and crept inside. 

The room was silent except for a slight growling sound coming from the bed. For some reason his brother had the blankets all the way over his head, and to Prussia it looked like Germany was tensed up like a snake. The growling grew louder as he approached the side of the bed, but Prussia could not see either of the dogs. As he reached for the blanket, he heard another sound, this one coming from downstairs. 

Denmark had either turned on the radio or had put on a record, because the first threatening notes of A Night on Bald Mountain began to play. He chuckled to himself. If he had planned an antic where he was to surprise his Bruder like this, he'd have picked maybe Peer Gynt, but this would do. He grasped the blanket and yanked it off.

He froze.

Washington was staring directly at him, her teeth bared, and she was growling. Too late, he realized his error. Trying to scream, he turned to flee, but she leapt out of bed and chased him, grabbing Germany's revolver from the night stand. 

"Matthias!" he screamed, dashing down the stairs. "Coffee! Now!"

"We're out," Denmark replied, cranking the volume. As Washington chased Prussia through the house, she fired several rounds at him, finally running out of bullets just as she closed in on him as the music reached its crescendo. 

"Den!! Help," he wailed, throwing his arms over his head and cowering into the Dane's chest. Now she had them both cornered and did not care that Denmark had not been involved in waking her up. He was there, she hadn't had her coffee, therefore he was going to suffer. The two threw their arms around each other and screamed.

Just as Washington reached out to seize them Germany came into the house with their salvation. 

"You idiots," he sighed, though he had known exactly what would happen. They were in the very positions he had envisioned. "Kate. Coffee."

Without taking her eyes from her prey she snatched the coffee from Germany's hand. He suddenly noticed that she was shaking, and looked accusingly at Prussia and Denmark. 

"What did you do?" he demanded. 

"Nothing! I thought it was you under the blanket! Mathias, tell them! I wouldn't do anything to Kate!" His eyes widened and he screamed. "Kate, fucking hell, your nose is bleeding!"

She brought a still shaking hand to her face, and it came away bloody. 

"Jesus," she muttered. "What the--oh, my fucking God," she exclaimed, squeezing her eyes shut. Her face went a ghastly shade of white.

"West, what is in that coffee?" Prussia shrieked. 

"I don't know!"

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"Shut up!" Washington shouted, glaring at them. "It's not the coffee." She looked around as the distinct sound of Romano's Alfa Romeo came from the drive. Italy was yelling her name even before he got to the front door. Romano banged on the door as Italy wailed. Alarmed, Germany opened the door, and Romano barged in, pushing past Germany and heading right to Washington. 

"Cara mia, you had better call Alfredo," he said grimly. "There's trouble at home, and bad, from the looks of it."


	14. The Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Washington comes home to chaos and is not amused.

Germany, Prussia, Denmark and Italy huddled around Prussia's laptop, staring in growing horror at the news clips showing clear and intensifying violence all over the United States. Nearly every major city was experiencing unrest of some degree. Prussia found a Seattle news affiliate and clicked. 

As they watched in shock, a group of shouting people surged into another group, overpowering them. As riot police tried to diffuse the situation, cars and transit vehicles burst into flames. Molotov cocktail bombs flew into several businesses, and the central police station was in flames. As the fires raged, tear gas began to bloom, and the sounds of gunfire and flash-bang grenades were clearly heard. Part of the rioting crowd flowed onto the nearby highway, stopping traffic. 

Washington stood stock-still, on the phone with America as she watched the scenes unfold. Romano was at her side, rubbing her shoulder and glaring at Germany who should be the one doing this, but he hadn't seen the news yet and Romano had. 

She lowered the phone.

Her eye twitched. 

"Ludwig," she said, in a very quiet and very dangerous voice, "I'm going. Take me to the airport, Lovi." They all turned to her in surprise. Romano was the only one who didn't look scared of the frightening blankness on Washington's face.

"I'll take you," Germany said, looking affronted that she would ask Romano instead of him, but she stared him down.

"No," she snapped. "This is not going to be pleasant, and you need to stay here. Let's go," she ordered. They started for the door, but Washington paused for just a moment. Turning back, she hurried to her two best good close friends and hugged them both at once. "You're both invited to my house when this fucking mess is sorted," she said. She looked at Germany. "As for you, I fully expect you to take me sailing for real, so you better be ready." 

He knew she would not particularly care if being kissed in front of the others would embarrass him, and as it turned out to his surprise it didn't really bother him. To their credit both her Awesome Trio compadres didn't utter a single word in jest. In fact, Germany noticed with some smugness, they both looked rather dejected. 

Ha. So there, Prussia, Bruder. In your Viking face, Denmark. 

The ride to the airport was thankfully quick, but Romano wasn't concerned about how long it took to get there. As one of America's oldest friends, he cared a great deal about him and the few of his children he could stand to be around. Some of them, like Colorado, were simply too damn much like Spain, while others, like Virginia, were much too similar to the tea bastard, England. Washington was a kindred spirit, so to see her going through this kind of thing bothered him. 

She stared straight ahead the entire ride to the airport. 

"You want me to come with you?" God, he hoped not. But he would. After all, he couldn't just leave her like this. "Come on, gattina. Let's get you home." It was clear to him that she needed support, but her silence was a little unnerving. He knew what that meant, because it was not unlike the silence they had all observed when America had been attacked by Saudi Arabia. 

She looked completely calm, but she was furious. 

Due to their status as personifications, they were allowed to move ahead in the line to board the next flight out. Berlin connected directly to Seattle, so there would be no delays. Washington allowed him to hold her hand the entire flight and even squeezed back. Romano would never admit it, but he was fascinated by her hands. They were small, but scarred and slightly calloused, like someone who did a lot of outdoor activities. They didn't look like much, but he knew they definitely packed a punch. Everyone remembered the time she had broken Germany's jaw after he'd summoned America to help him.

"Don't worry, gattina," he said. "Everything is going to work out. Huh? This is just another one of your people's stupid fuckin overreactions."

Her eye twitched. He sighed.

"Listen, it's probably not all that bad. You've got intelligent people in your government. Well, mostly intelligent. They've likely got the situation under control by now." He noticed a thin line of blood trickling from one nostril and bit his lip. "Well, maybe."

She didn't lose her expressionless expression. "I don't want to have to do this, but if they don't calm down...I haven't lost my temper with my people in a long time, you know. And even then I didn't want to. But they run amok over the wrong things and it gets on my nerves. 

"I don't want trouble, Lovi. I don't. But they are asking for it," she said, with a grim shake of her head. "So I will give them trouble."

Her eye twitched. 

"We'll see how they handle themselves when they have to deal with the consequences."


End file.
